Gilligan's Bunch on Brady's Island
by amythis
Summary: Gilligan and Mrs. Martin tell what happens when fifteen passengers set sail on "The Minnow" in the summer of '64.
1. A Fateful Trip

"Just sit right back

And you'll hear the tale

Of a lovely lady

And a man named Brady,

A tale of a fateful trip,

One day when the lady met this fellow,

Aboard this tiny ship..."

* * *

Carol Martin's diary:

June 23, 1964

Honolulu is definitely the nicest place that Tim has been stationed so far, but I'm not crazy about always having to resettle. Yes, I know that that was what I agreed to when I married a man in the Navy, but it is hard with three small girls. And Marcia was very fond of her school in San Diego. I hated to uproot her again.

The other girls are too little for it to matter much. To be honest, I guess I'm feeling sorry for myself, always having to make new friends. Even for an extrovert like me, that isn't easy. I get attached to people and then have to say goodbye.

But for now we're in beautiful Hawaii. It's funny to think that it's been a state only a few months longer than Jan has been alive. Of course, the Hawaiian culture is very old, and fascinating. I want to see as much as I can, although it means taking the girls along, even the baby.

Tim told me about his old friend, Captain Jonas Grumby. They met during the war. (Tim joined up at 16, lying about his age. Luckily, the war was almost over by then.) Capt. Grumby has a little tour boat here in Hawaii, and I think that would be fun, for me and the girls. (Tim will be busy with work of course.) The tour takes three hours, which is a long time for Cindy, but I'll bring plenty of diapers and toys and so on. She probably won't get much out of the tour of course, but Marcia and Jan should love it.

Right now, we're sitting on the beach. Marcia and Jan are building a sand castle. Jan is very good at it, especially for four and a half. Bill always calls her Francine Lloyd Wright and jokes that she'll grow up to be an architect. There aren't very many female architects of course, but I remember seeing Hearst Castle and that had a woman architect. As for Marcia, she's mostly doing the decorating, putting shells and little stones and whatever else she can find on the beach. And I'm doing my best to keep an eye on Cindy, making sure she doesn't swallow sand, even if it does look like sugar.

Our tour leaves in an hour, so we'll have to go back to the hotel soon and get our things. But for now I'm enjoying the sunshine on the beach and trying to get a tan. (I'm tempted to buy a bikini, but I don't know if that would be proper for a mother of three, even if I'm not yet thirty.)

* * *

First mate's log:

June 23, 1964

Docked in Honolulu. Picked up fifteen passengers- Mr. and Mrs. Howell (very rich couple), Ginger Grant (the movie star!), Professor Roy Hinkley, Mary Ann Summers (farm girl from Kansas, not sure how she got here), and two families (Mr. and Mrs. Brady, their three little boys, and their maid, and Mrs. Martin and her three little girls). Most of the kids are too young to charge them fares, but I can see it's going to be a noisy trip. Weather report is clear and sunny. The sea is calm.

The Skipper's calling. Gotta go.

* * *

June 24, 1964

I can't write much right now but I feel like leaving some kind of record. I hope that we'll survive this, but if we don't, well, maybe someone will find my diary.

I'm trying to be brave for the girls' sake. Even little Cindy is scared, although she doesn't understand what's happening.

There's another family on board, a couple and their three sons, who are about the ages of my girls. They also brought their maid, who's been a big help, to me as well.

There's a terrible storm. The ship's captain says there was no mention of it on the weather report. He seems brave and sure, and I'm doing my best to trust him. Mr. Howell is more skeptical and I hear him grumbling to his wife sometimes. Yes, Thurston Howell IV and his wife are on board. I've never met a millionaire before of course, and I certainly didn't expect to meet one on this humble vessel.

There's also Ginger Grant the movie star! Marcia, who's seven, asked for her autograph, before the storm started. She obliged, but now I can't help wondering if we'll ever see Marcia's scrapbook again.

The other two passengers are just ordinary people, like me. There's a professor and a farm girl. She, Mary Ann, seems very nice. Well, most of the people do. But it is difficult being on this small boat with sixteen other people. The children are all small, so they don't take up much room, but they certainly add to the chaos.

We have to sleep and eat in shifts, although the babies, mine and the tiniest Brady boy, of course nap when they can. I hope the food holds out. The crew provides free lunches as part of the tour, but the sandwiches and so on won't last indefinitely.

"Mommy, will we see Daddy again?" Jan asked last night when we were supposed to be sleeping.

I didn't want to lie to her but I didn't want to add to her fear. "I hope so, Darling, but not right away," was the best I could manage. Oh, Tim, I wish you were here! I can't help envying Barbara Brady, who has her husband with her. Mike Brady seems so calm and rational, but also very sweet with her and the children. I can just imagine how awful it is for Tim, waiting for us back in Honolulu. I'll send word to him as soon as we reach land.

The storm is getting worse. I'll write again when it's calmer.

* * *

June 24, 1964

Wow, there's a real storm brewing out there! I'm trying to help the Skipper and keep the passengers calm, but it isn't easy when there are so many of them, including little kids.

The storm wasn't on the forecast. The Skipper can't explain it. But I don't blame him. He's doing the best he can.

Believe me, it doesn't help to have rich people like the Howells on board, when they're used to traveling in style. Even on a regular tour, that would've been a challenge. But they're not all bad. I saw Mrs. Howell loan a couple of her furs (she and her husband brought a bunch of clothes) to the kids to use as blankets.

Oh, Peter Brady's throwing up! Gotta go!

* * *

June 25, 1964

The storm continues. I could stand it if the crew could just get a signal on the radio. But we're cut off from everyone. Marcia told Greg Brady that her daddy would come save them because he's in the Navy. But Tim would have to find us first.

There are only two crew members, the Skipper and his first mate, Gilligan. I'm not sure if that's his first or last name, but that's what he wants everyone to call him, even the children. He's clumsy and not too bright, but he is very good with the children, making them laugh when they're scared.

* * *

June 25, 1964

I asked the Skipper, when none of the passengers were around of course, and it wasn't easy to find a moment like that, but I asked him, "Skipper, tell me the truth, do you think we'll die?"

And he said, "Little Buddy, you saved my life in the Navy, and I don't think you saved it just for me to lose it out here."

When Greg Brady asked me if I thought we'll all die, I said, "Nah, the Skipper knows what he's doing." Greg is eight but he looked like he didn't quite believe me.


	2. Marooned

June 26, 1964

First mate's log:

Wow, we've landed on an uncharted tropical island! I really landed on it because when I woke up I didn't see the Skipper so I yelled, "Man overboard!" and jumped off the ship to save him. I got a face full of sand. _The Minnow_ had run aground, with a lot of damage, although all the passengers fortunately are safe.

No one, not even the Skipper, knows where we are. We are able to get in a radio signal and we heard a report about all of us being missing. I hope someone sends a search party and doesn't just think we're all dead. After all, the Howells are very rich, so I bet they'd be missed. And Ginger Grant maybe, too. Oh, and poor Mrs. Martin's husband is back home, so he must be worried. The Brady family at least is all together. I haven't seen my family in awhile, but I bet they're wondering where I am.

The transmitter broke and the Professor (that's what we're all calling him, although his real name is Roy Hinkley) tried to fix it. But then I accidentally hooked the radio and the transmitter when I was fishing. So two fish swallowed them, but then I caught both fish later, so it worked out OK.

A plane did fly overhead, but I don't know if it was a search plane. We tried to spell out "HELP" with fish but they didn't see it.

We're sleeping on the boat tonight, even though it's kind of crowded. The Bradys, Martins, and Howells will sleep downstairs, and the other five of us on the deck. At least it's not raining anymore. If we stay here another few days, we'll probably have to build some kind of shelter.

* * *

June 28, 1964

Carol Martin's diary:

We're all alive and well. I try to remember that and not think about the damage to the ship and the uncertainty of when we'll be rescued from wherever we are, somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Yesterday, the men built a raft and sent the Skipper and Gilligan out on it. I hope someone will spot them and come for the rest of us.

Meanwhile, we fifteen passengers are making the best of things in their absence. Mr. Brady is an architect and he's designing a hut for all of us to stay in, if we end up having to stay a few weeks. We can't sleep on the boat indefinitely. I have mixed feelings about a communal hut. Yes, it could be built much more quickly than five separate huts (one for the single men, one for the single women, one for the Howells, one for the Bradys, and one for me and my girls), and perhaps it would be best to stick together early on, especially before we know the dangers of the island. (It seems to be uninhabited, but there are jungles and caves, so who knows who or how many could've landed here before us.)

On the other hand, tempers might be short if we're living in cramped quarters, all these strangers from different backgrounds. Also, much as I love my children, I'm sure it's irritating for the childless people to have to constantly put up with them, not to mention the three Brady boys. I feel guilty when Cindy cries, and I'm sure Barbara Brady feels the same when her Bobby does.

I think she and I will become friends if we are here awhile, since I obviously have the most in common with her. She's a very pretty brunette but quiet and reflectful. Her husband is more of a talker, and sometimes he seems to lecture as much as the professor does, but not so much providing information as opinion. He seems reasonable and intelligent, but I could see him getting on my nerves if I had to share a house with him for very long.

I will say this for him, he's a good fisherman, even better than Gilligan, since he hasn't used the radio or transmitter as bait. Luckily, they were recovered. Unluckily, the transmitter doesn't work and the Professor hasn't been able to fix it.

Anyway, Mike Brady has caught enough fish to get us through today and tomorrow. The Professor has identified some of the plants that are safe to eat, but it will take a long time till he's sure about all of them. At least we won't starve on this island, however long we're here.

There is of course no baby food, but I was able to mush up some bananas for Cindy, and she seemed to like them. Most of the cooking is done by Mary Ann, the young Kansas girl, and the Bradys' maid, Alice. Barbara and I help a little with the food, but our children keep us busy, caring for them, keeping them occupied and out of trouble. I don't think either Mrs. Howell or Ginger Grant can cook, but that's not really surprising.

I miss Tim and hope that he's not too worried about us. The radio reports suggest that no one knows where to begin looking for us. I hope the Skipper and Gilligan can make contact with someone nonetheless.

* * *

June 30, 1964

Well, that didn't work out too well. Sorry I couldn't update you while the Skipper and I were on the raft, but I was only supposed to take essentials. Plus, I figured I wouldn't have any privacy to write with the Skipper right there the whole time.

We were out there for three days, and then a shark attacked! The raft sank and we swam to shore. We didn't realize it was the same island we left, and the Skipper was worried about Marubi headhunters. But it was just the passengers, who were hiding in a cave because they were scared of us. I ended up trapping everyone in the cave by causing an avalanche. We had to dig our way out. I dressed as a Marubi, so they wouldn't yell at me. It scared them, but then they figured it out. The Skipper said he would put me in the stockade, if we had built a stockade, and if he didn't need me to work.

We are going to build a hut, a great big hut for everyone, since it looks like we won't be rescued for awhile. Mr. Brady is designing it. And guess who's going to be doing a lot of what Mr. Howell calls "manual labor"? Yep, me. So I've got to go.


	3. Loss

July 2, 1964

I can't believe this has happened! It's so unfair. Not that I could easily accept this if it had happened to any of the others, but it's such a cruel twist of fate.

The Skipper and Gilligan ended up back on this island, their raft destroyed by a shark! It was clear that we would be here for awhile, so the five men immediately began building the communal hut, with the help of us six women and the older children. It's very simple, just the five bedrooms and a living room. They've made outhouses and an outdoor kitchen and dining area. The important thing was to have shelter as soon as possible.

But that first night, the Howells got into a terrible argument. They've been married about twenty years, and apparently the last five have been difficult. I can understand how living on the island could add to the strain, since the children have been squabbling, too, and not just with their siblings. Greg and Marcia got into an argument earlier that day. But the quarrels of children are soon settled, while this spat between the Howells threatened to go on all night. None of us got any sleep. It was especially upsetting for my girls, because Tim and I never argue like that. We have our disagreements, but they're civilized. Yet here was one of the richest couples in the world, yelling like, as the Professor put it, "a fishwife and a truck driver." I heard Mr. Brady tell his wife, "So much for communal living."

The next day, yesterday, some of us tore the hut apart to use as material to build individual huts. The Skipper tried to stop us, since he was worried about a storm coming, but we thought our own little huts could withstand it as well as one big hut.

Mr. Brady's hut turned out all right, since he's an architect, and he had Barbara, Alice, and Greg to help him. My hut couldn't even have qualified as a condemned shack. I had Marcia helping me, while Jan watched the baby, but I know nothing about building, and of course a seven-year-old girl knows even less. Still, it was shelter of a sort.

Meanwhile, the two single girls built a hut and the Professor wanted one separate from the other two single men. They weren't much better than mine and soon fell apart.

It was agreed that we should go back to the communal hut idea, so we all worked together to build it again. We finished just as the storm hit. We all gathered inside. Well, almost all of us.

I'd managed to shoo Jan and Marcia into the hut, and Cindy was in my arms. But little Bobby Brady had wandered off. His five-year-old brother Peter was supposed to be keeping an eye on him but got distracted watching frogs. Their mother Barbara went looking for Bobby. Mike said later that he would've stopped her if he'd known, especially since Bobby toddled back on his own. Mike wanted to go searching for his wife, but Alice said he needed to stay with his boys. She didn't say it but we all knew that she meant that they needed at least one of their parents with them, during the storm and after. The Skipper pointed out that it would be impossible to find anyone in all that rain and wind. So he reluctantly stayed in the hut, his arms protectively around his sons, as mine were around my daughters.

We all waited in the living room. The children weren't the only ones who were scared. It was a fierce storm, as bad as the one that brought us to this island. But the hut held and we were dry and relatively safe.

When the storm ended, the Skipper insisted that he be the one to go outside first. I think he thinks of himself as our leader, with all the responsibility that entails. But when he opened the door, he fell in the lagoon! The hut had actually been picked up by the storm and carried out to the water. I don't think it's seaworthy, but it does show what we can accomplish when we all work together as a team.

It was hard not to laugh when the Skipper fell in, especially when Gilligan tried to save him and himself fell in. Luckily, they're both good swimmers, and the water isn't that deep. In fact, it was difficult to restrain the children from jumping in and going swimming.

It wasn't that we weren't worried about Barbara, but after the tension of the storm, we needed that release of humor. And the Professor had suggested that Mrs. Brady had found shelter in one of the caves on the island. I don't know why we didn't do that, except that I guess we were worried about a landslide. Also, it would've been very crowded with so many of us in a cave, as it was when we hid from what we thought were headhunters but turned out to be the Skipper and Gilligan.

Mike Brady and the Professor joined the other two men in the water, to help push the hut back to shore. Greg Brady wanted to help, but Alice insisted that he stay on board. Mr. Howell did not offer, but no one really expected him to.

Once the hut was on dry land, Alice and I shooed the children out so that the hut would be lighter. We, the children, and the Howells carried some of the furniture, while Ginger Grant and Mary Ann helped the four men move the hut back to its location. Bamboo is a light though sturdy material, so it was easier than if the hut was made of, say, brick and mortar.

I know Mike was impatient to go looking for his wife, but he also felt a responsibility to the group. Also, he wanted his sons to wait with Alice at the hut, while the search party combed the island for Barbara. This time the Howells did go along, although first they insisted on changing into safari outfits that they'd packed for some reason! It's strange to look at the funny moments in the midst of tragedy, but they were part of this.

Yes, tragedy. Because the Professor found Barbara Brady, lifeless in the jungle. Mary Ann told me later that she saw Mr. Brady when he came back from identifying the body. Although sometimes he seems almost as unemotional as the Professor, tears were streaming down his face. Yet, when we had the funeral, he was like a stone, a rock for his sons, who all wept heavily. I cried, too, although I didn't know her very well.

We buried her quickly and simply. I felt like she deserved more, but under these primitive conditions, there was only so much we could do. And we couldn't wait until whenever we're rescued.

Marcia and Jan are worried about something happening to me. I understand. Mothers seem like they'll always be there, but the Brady boys have lost theirs. Cindy is too young to understand any of this of course. As for the Brady brothers, I hope Bobby will never know that it was his "fault" that his mother died. He's just a toddler and he was acting like one. I also hope Peter won't blame himself for not looking after Bobby better. He's only five and it was a lot of responsibility to give him. I suppose it's only luck that Cindy didn't wander off when Jan was watching her. And I hope that Greg won't blame both his brothers for the loss of their mother.

I can imagine what Mike is going through. Perhaps Tim is going through something similar, thinking the girls and I are dead. But at least Mike knows. He won't have to wonder. It's not going to be easy to bring up three sons without their mother, but at least he has Alice, a very loyal, hard-working maid. And the rest of us can help while we're all on this island together.

So now there are sixteen of us, rather than seventeen. In such a small "community," the loss of one person is felt by us all. And that it was a beloved wife and mother makes it an even greater loss.

It wouldn't have happened if the Bradys hadn't taken that fateful trip. But I don't blame the Skipper, as Mr. Howell seems to. As I said, it's more like Fate. And we've all got to work together to make sure nothing like this ever happens again, that the rest of us survive until help comes.


	4. Home Sweet Hut

July 4, 1964

First mate's log:

I still can't get over it. Mrs. Brady is dead! She died in an awful storm. She'd gone looking for her youngest son, who made it back on his own.

The rest of us survived, in the communal hut that we'd built, torn apart, and rebuilt. The Skipper says I should focus on that, that the rest of us are alive, but I still feel real bad for her family. She seemed like a nice lady.

And now it's the Fourth of July. None of us felt much like celebrating, although I felt bad for the kids, especially the boys. If they hadn't taken the tour on _The Minnow_ , they could be back in Honolulu, watching a neat fireworks display. Obviously, we don't have any fireworks, and if we did, we'd use them as extra signal flares.

Mary Ann did make special red, white, and blue pies tonight. They had raspberries, blueberries, and coconut milk. I ate almost half of one! She's a very good pie-maker. She and Alice do most of the cooking, although the other ladies help sometimes. Well, not Mrs. Howell of course.

Since it looks like we'll be here awhile, having good cooks helps make things easier. It's kind of rough living with sixteen, well, fifteen other people in one big hut. At least the Howells haven't had a spat lately. I think Mrs. Brady dying made them realize that they could've lost each other.

* * *

July 11, 1964

Carol Martin's diary:

This week has been less dramatic but still eventful. Someone was breaking into the supply hut! The Skipper, who's otherwise very sensible, thought we were all under a voodoo curse, and Mike Brady and the Professor couldn't convince him otherwise. It turned out to be a mischievous chimp. The food is replaceable, but unfortunately we lost most of our signal flares.

I find myself missing everyday items, especially diapers. Unlike Bobby Brady, Cindy is too young to potty-train (especially for an outhouse), so I've had to improvise cloth diapers from clothing that the other castaways have donated. I feel like my grandmother, Connie Hutchins, who lives in Kentucky. When I visited her as a little girl in the '40s, she was still living like it was the 19th century. But she was energetic and creative, able to hand-make almost anything you can think of. My mother, her daughter, is much more suburban and sophisticated.

Sigh, I wish I could contact my family back home, not just Tim of course. But I know I'm lucky compared to Mike Brady.

* * *

July 23, 1964

It's been a month since _The Minnow_ set sail, for what turned out to be the last time. We're no closer to being rescued than we were, especially after I accidentally exploded all the signal flares in the supply hut. (I left a crate of them in the jungle luckily.)

A few days ago, we had a chance but I blew it. There was a lady pilot who was supposed to fly over our island on her journey around the world, so the Professor hypnotized the Skipper so he could remember how to turn the radio into a transmitter. But the Professor couldn't get it to work when he followed the Skipper's instructions. I was on sentry duty (I don't know why they always pick me, there are four other men!), and I accidentally fixed the transmitter, but then when I tried to show how I did it, I accidentally broke it.

I wasn't this accident-prone before I landed on this island. Sometimes I wonder if the Skipper's right that we're cursed.

* * *

July 28, 1964

We've been on the island over a month and we're still living in the communal hut. The men refuse to build us separate huts. They offer a variety of overlapping excuses: we might be rescued soon, there are more urgent projects, it's too much work, and things are fine as they are. But the strain of all living in one building (I can't really call it a home) is building again. I would like a little privacy and the other women agree. Well, not Alice, who doesn't want to give an opinion. She's one of us, but on the other hand, she works for Mr. Brady and doesn't like to disagree with him. (Obviously, he can't pay her while we're on the island, but she feels loyalty to his family, having joined them when Barbara was pregnant with Bobby.)

What most upsets me is that the men don't take us seriously. They figuratively pat us on the head and say that we should leave the decisions to them. They know best. We're all intelligent women (certainly more intelligent than Gilligan, although he's the man who condescends to us the least), and there are just as many of us as there are of them, five each now that Barbara's gone. I can't help wondering which side she would take if she were here. Mrs. Howell disagrees with her husband, but Barbara seemed to keep her thoughts to herself more.

* * *

July 29, 1964

Wow, all the women and girls have left us! They were getting ticked off about living in the group hut, but none of us thought they were this mad. They've gone to live on the other side of the island, even though we tried to talk them out of it. They all went—Ginger, Mary Ann, Mrs. Howell, Mrs. Martin and her little girls, even Alice, Mr. Brady's maid. And none of us men know anything about taking care of three little boys.

But Mr. Howell is sure that they'll all be back by sundown. I hope so, because I've got to do the cooking while they're gone. I'm going to make fish stew. I think I've got everything—pineapples, coconuts, and wild berries.

* * *

July 29, 1964

We couldn't take the men's attitudes anymore, so we've left them! It's not easy trying to build shelter on our own, even teaming up more than we did after we first arrived on the island, but Ginger has gone back to the men to get a smaller hammer. She's as alluring in person as onscreen, and she did wheedle tools out of Gilligan a few weeks ago, so I'm sure she'll be successful.

Alice sighed, "If it were me, I don't think I'd have any luck." She's always putting herself down. She's not bad-looking but of course not as young and glamorous as Ginger.

Alice was the hardest to convince to accompany us. She said that Mr. Brady would be helpless without her, especially with the little boys to take care of. But I pointed out that that would make him give in more quickly, and if we can convince him, then maybe he can convince the other men. After all, he's the one who would be designing the separate huts, and he can be very persuasive. And Mrs. Howell is sure that her husband will cave in by nightfall, since he's very dependent on her.

It was Mrs. Howell's idea to begin with. She mentioned _Lysistrata_ , and since I'm the only other woman on the island with a college education, I was the only one who understood the reference. I didn't point out that the women in the play didn't simply ignore the men. Mary Ann is very young and innocent, and of course Marcia was listening, so I didn't want to explain the actual plot. As Mrs. Howell is the only woman on the island with her husband, she's the only one who could ignore a man in that particular way. (I don't know if I could manage it if Tim were here. But if he were, I hope he would take our side, rather than the men's.)

Oh, here comes Ginger! She doesn't have any tools, but she's smiling. I wonder what happened.

* * *

July 30, 1964

Mr. Howell had a foolproof plan to get the women and girls to move back, but it didn't work. He had me and the Skipper dress up as a monster and go scare them at their camp. But when they saw us, Mrs. Howell said they'd kill the monster and send its head back to the men! Then they all beat on us with bamboo sticks! Even the little girls, Marcia and Jan, giggling the whole time, while the baby sat on the sand clapping her hands.

We had to reveal ourselves before they killed us. Then they sent us away. And today I'm stuck doing laundry.

* * *

July 31, 1964

Well, we're back in the community hut, for now. Life without the men was difficult, especially trying to construct a hut for the eight of us, but I guess it was even harder for them. They tried to scare us with the Skipper and Gilligan in a monster costume, but Mrs. Howell, who comes up with a lot of clever plans, had us attack the "monster."

The next night, last night, Mr. Howell showed up, apparently to reconcile with his wife, but we thought he was a Peeping Tom at first. Then later we thought the men were operating another monster, a more elaborate one, but it turned out they weren't in it!

The other women got so scared that they rushed to the protection of the men: Mrs. Howell to her husband of course, but also interestingly Ginger to the Professor, Mary Ann to Gilligan, and Alice to the Skipper. I really wished Tim were here then. Instead I huddled with my girls. (Mr. Brady had stayed behind in the camp with his boys.)

Then the Skipper and Gilligan went to investigate. The Skipper came back to report, and then the Professor realized that this monster was a lost weather balloon! He said we could inflate it and send it up with messages. Unfortunately, Gilligan attacked it, thinking it was a dragon!

So we're still stuck on the island, still stuck in this hut. But the men have promised to build separate huts, when they get a chance.


	5. Wrongway Feldman

August 4, 1964

First mate's log:

Well, all the ladies came back and Mr. Brady is working on sketches for separate huts. It's nice to have the women around, and not just because we men aren't very good at cooking, laundry, and all that. It just seems nicer, "more gracious" is how Mr. Howell put it.

I did want to be helpful domestically, so I cut up the weather balloon (the one I thought was a dragon) into pieces so that the fabric could be used for clothing. It took me a few days and I was so proud when I showed it to the Skipper and the Professor. It turns out that they wanted to use the balloon to send up a message. Oops! Still, the women were grateful for the fabric.

I had a dream about all five of them. This was while they were gone. I dreamed I was a bullfighter and they were my adoring fans. I've always been shy with girls but not in my dreams. I wish I could do something heroic in real life and impress Mary Ann and Ginger.

* * *

August 10, 1964

Carol Martin's diary:

Well, it turns out we're not alone on the island! Wrongway Feldman, the famous pilot who disappeared back in '31 (my parents told me about him), has been on this island all that time. I don't know how we managed to not run into him these past weeks, or why he didn't reveal himself when Gilligan set off all those signal flares, but he and his old propeller plane, _The Spirit of the Bronx,_ were in the jungle until Gilligan found them today.

The Professor thinks he can fix the plane with spare parts from _The Minnow._ The plane is of course too small for sixteen passengers, but Mr. Feldman can fly to civilization and send someone back for us. This is so exciting! We're going to be rescued!

The construction on the huts is of course halted for the moment. The only one that's been finished in the past week is the Howells'. It's partly that they're wealthy enough to offer Mike Brady money when we get back home, not that he's entirely motivated by money of course, but he does have three young sons to bring up on his own now. Another factor is that the rest of us knew that life in the communal hut would be more peaceful without the Howells bickering. (Not that the children don't quarrel of course, but at least they don't argue at night.) The Howells wanted a very elaborate home, as close to a mansion as could be made in bamboo, but Mike convinced them to settle for a large one-room "flat." The rest of us worked on making furniture and their hut is really quite pleasant considering, but of course they'll soon be leaving it for one of their many homes. (They claim at least one in every state!)

I don't mind putting up with this hut for awhile longer. I wonder how long it will take for Mr. Feldman to get to Hawaii. I know, he does have a tendency to get lost, which is where his nickname comes from, but Mike pointed out that even if Mr. Feldman did lose his way, he could still be spotted from the air.

Just think, maybe in less than a week, I'll be back with Tim! The girls are so excited about going home (well, not Cindy, who's still too little to understand all that's happened), but I'm just as eager as Marcia and Jan.

* * *

August 12, 1964

It turns out that someone else has been living on the island. In fact, he's been here longer than I've been alive. Wrongway Feldman landed here in '31 and hasn't left since. We were hoping he could rescue us but his old prop plane has a lot of problems. First, the Professor fixed the engine with parts from _The Minnow_ , but then yesterday the propeller fell off. We fixed it, but then today we found out that someone had cut through one of the support beams!

The Professor thinks someone else is on the island and that person doesn't want us to leave for some reason, but how many people could be living here without us knowing? Wrongway thinks one of us sabotaged the plane, but we all want to go home. I wonder if one of the chimps could've done it. They're pretty smart and mischievous. But the Skipper says they couldn't work a saw. I hope we find out soon who's doing it, so we can stop them and be rescued.

The Skipper's got all us men on watch, twenty-four hours a day. We each do five hours, except Mr. Brady only has to do four hours, because he's got kids. Alice looks after the boys while Mr. Brady's on watch, but she minds them most of the time anyway. She's not a replacement for their mother, but I'm sure it helps the family having her around.

* * *

August 15, 1964

Well, so much for being rescued. It turns out that Mr. Feldman was sabotaging his own plane, since he was afraid to fly after so long. Then he trained Gilligan as a pilot, neither of them telling anyone, which is a shame because it turns out that the Professor was a pilot in World War II and could've flown if he'd known. It ended up with Mr. Feldman flying off in the plane after all, and "Wrongway" or not, he made his way back to New York! Yes, he completely skipped over Hawaii and most of the continental U.S.

Still, he was back in America and we hoped to be rescued soon. The problem is that his directions were so confusing that we're no closer to being found than we were.

The only good thing is that he reported that we're all alive and well, except for Barbara Brady of course. Mike told me that at least now her parents know her fate and can mourn her, and he finds that comforting.

I understand but I can't help thinking of my own parents, and my brother Jack. Are they relieved that we're still alive, or angry that Mr. Feldman couldn't save us? And I think of how Jack got engaged just before I left, to a sweet girl named Pauline. Will I be back in time for their Christmas wedding? Oh, I hope so! I don't want to think about being here even in the Fall, but that's increasingly a possibility.


	6. The Birds and the Trees

August 25, 1964

First mate's log:

I had another dream about the people on the island, but before I tell you about that, I'd better tell you why I had it. The Professor said there was a blight on the island, meaning the plants were getting sick. With sixteen people to feed, that was a big problem. And I had a pet duck and they all wanted to kill her and eat her, even though she wouldn't go that far (as a meal) with so many people and even though she was my pet.

So I had a dream that I was Marshall Gilligan, protecting Emily. The Professor, Mr. Howell, and Mr. Brady were the lynch mob after her, but they weren't the only ones. Even my own deputy, the Skipper, wanted to eat her! Mrs. Howell was Mr. Howell's wife of course, except she was Spanish. Mrs. Martin was the schoolmarm and she said I should sacrifice my duck for the sake of the starving children in town. Mary Ann was my fiancee and I could trust her, but I also wished I could have a good time with Ginger the saloon girl. And Alice was the town drunk!

Pretty crazy, huh? Well, when I woke up, I pretended I was going to kill Emily, but I made everyone feel so guilty that they were relieved when I served them a shoe covered with feathers. And then Emily ate some of the "blighted" plants, so we didn't have to worry about food anymore.

Then I was supposed to send Emily off with a note so we could be rescued, but I forgot to attach it. Oh well. Maybe she'll come back.

* * *

August 31st, 1964

Carol Martin's diary:

After the disappointment over Wrongway Feldman, the men got busy building huts again. They made one for the single men and one for the single women in one week. At first, Alice wasn't sure where to live. After all, she works for Mr. Brady and he needs her help with his little boys, but she is a single woman. It worked out that she, Cindy, and I shared a room in what was left of the community hut, while Marcia and Jan were in another, and the Brady guys in the third. Some of the bamboo and other materials obviously got taken away to help build the new huts.

It was funny living with Alice and the Bradys, without the others, like we were one big happy family. I liked it, I must admit, although when Jan asked if I was going to marry Mr. Brady, I knew this living situation couldn't continue much longer. I explained to her that her daddy is still alive and he's just not with us right now.

Construction on the Martin abode was halted when there was all the fuss last week. First the Professor said there was a blight on the island! Then we all wanted to eat Gilligan's pet duck. Well, the kids didn't. They thought "Emily" was cute. (Gilligan called the bird "Everett" at first, till it laid an egg.) I knew the protein would help us all survive, although I could understand the children's feelings. As it turned out, there wasn't a blight. We were going to send Emily off with a message, but Gilligan didn't attach the note before she flew off. Sometimes I wonder if that boy doesn't want us to be rescued. No one could be that bumbling, could they?

After yet another rescue attempt failed, the men got back to building a hut for me and my girls. It's just one room, but we're trying to make it as homey as possible. Luckily, the girls are used to living in different places and they're adaptable.

Alice stayed with Mr. Brady, since someone has to look after his children. Mrs. Howell wasn't sure if it was proper for a single woman to live with a newly widowed man, but I guess she decided that it's different than if Alice were young and beautiful. As near as I can tell, Mike misses his wife terribly and never looks at any of us women, even Ginger. But it has been only a couple months since he lost Barbara.

* * *

Sept 7, 1964

Well, we're all done building huts, finally. We had to do one more because the Professor wants space to do his experiments, especially after I knocked one over. Since he's the only one with a hut to himself, we put the food locker and some other supplies in there. Now it's just me and the Skipper in our hut, but we still see the passengers almost as much as we did when we were all living in one big hut.

It looks like we're going to be here awhile. Today is Labor Day and I heard the Howells saying it's wrong to wear white after Labor Day, but I'm used to my white hat and shoes, and I didn't pack any others, so I'll keep wearing them.

Mrs. Martin is worried about her oldest girl, Marcia, missing school, which starts tomorrow. She and Mr. Brady are thinking of giving Marcia and his oldest boy, Greg, lessons so they won't fall behind when we get rescued. The Professor might teach them, too, although he's not used to little kids. Peter, the middle Brady boy, would be starting kindergarten but that's not as important. I just hope we don't have to build a school next!

* * *

Sept. 14, 1964

We were starting to settle in, with Mike Brady and I even giving Greg and Marcia some schoolwork so they'll keep up with their classes when we eventually return, and then Mary Ann and Gilligan invented glue! They were supposed to have found syrup for pancakes, but the sap was much too sticky for that. The Professor said we could repair _The Minnow_ with the glue. I have to admit I'm a little skeptical at this point. And when I heard that Gilligan and the Skipper got stuck to the boat, I had further doubts.

The Professor needed a chemical solvent to dissolve the glue and he decided to try perfume. That doesn't exactly explain why, according to what Ginger told me confidentially later, he buried his nose in her neck! He seems so reserved but I think he is attracted to the movie star. And the way she told it, she didn't exactly mind the nuzzling.

And Mary Ann confided in me yesterday that when she and Gilligan were tasting sap for the syrup, she told him it was sweet, just like him. He's very shy though. If the boat isn't fixed successfully and we stay on this island much longer, it would be tempting to nudge those two couples together.

That would leave Alice and the Skipper. They're about the same age and he loves her cooking, while she admires his strength. But he seems to have eyes only for Ginger. I know, I should leave well enough alone, but if I am going to be with these people for however long I am, I can't help wanting to matchmake. They'd all be happier, and it would give me something fun to think about.

* * *

Sept. 15, 1964

Well, we almost left the island, again. Mary Ann and I found some tree sap for her pancake syrup, but it worked better as glue. So the Skipper and I tried to fix _The Minnow_ , but it turned out that the glue was only temporary. Luckily, we found out before we cast off. And good thing we didn't use it on the huts.

Mary Ann and I kissed trees to test the sap. I'd never kissed a tree before. It was OK. She said the sap wasn't as sweet as me. I almost said, "But you've never tasted me," but I thought that might sound funny, so I didn't.

* * *

September 30, 1964

Another failed escape from this island, although at least it wasn't Gilligan's fault this time, or not directly.

Ginger and Mary Ann don't do much of the fishing, since that's usually Gilligan's department, but a few days ago he was helping Mr. Howell, and the girls caught the inflatable life raft from _The Minnow!_ It needed to be repaired but it looked like it would be usable. The question was, could all sixteen of us fit in it? (On it?) The Professor thought we could manage it if we all packed extremely lightly. Good thing the children are so small.

It turned out that what Gilligan was helping Mr. Howell with was digging in a gold mine! Mr. Howell refused to share the gold with anyone, even though Mike said that legally all island resources should be shared equally, since we've all equally discovered the island. (Well, Mr. Feldman was here first but I doubt he's coming back.) Instead what ended up happening was that we all (even Greg and Marcia) started charging the Howells for basic goods and services. Like, Alice and Mary Ann charged for meals, the Skipper and Gilligan for rental of mining tools, and the older children for running errands. I'm afraid I even charged some pieces of gold for hemming Mrs. Howell's sleeves so she could mine more easily when she took over for Gilligan. Greed got to us all.

And then when it was time to go, nearly all of us tried to sneak gold on board the raft, everyone but Gilligan and the four youngest children. The raft of course sank. Luckily we hadn't gotten too far out into the lagoon, just a couple feet. The other adults helped me and Mike save those four youngest, since none of them can swim. Yes, I think we'd better give Jan and Peter at least swimming lessons. They're four and five, old enough. And we'll just have to be careful with the babies. It looks like we really will be on this island a long while, and it's a good skill to have anyway.

* * *

Oct. 15, 1964

Not much new to report. Well, a couple weeks ago, Mr. Howell had me digging up a gold mine, and the gold ended up sinking the life raft the girls caught when they were fishing. But I'm getting kind of used to stuff like this. It's been almost three months since we landed here and it feels like something always goes wrong.

I found a pearl in an oyster, too, but I think it was the only one. I'm keeping it as a good luck charm, along with my rabbit's feet. (I have two.)


	7. President Who?

October 31, 1964

Carol Martin's diary:

We celebrated Halloween, although we had to get very creative about the costumes, since most of us didn't pack very many clothes. The Howells, who do have generous streaks, she especially, loaned some clothing to us, even to the children. We used berry juice for make-up. We didn't have candy, but Mary Ann and Alice made taffy and cookies, and the children were happy enough with that.

Our costumes: Mr. and Mrs. Howell as hobos, the Skipper as a cowboy, Gilligan as a native, the Professor as a movie star, Ginger as a nurse, Mary Ann as a little old lady, Alice as a clown, Mike as a judge, Greg as a Beatle, Marcia as a princess, Peter as a fireman, Jan as a witch, Bobby as a puppy (wearing Mrs. Howell's furs), and Cindy as a flower. Oh, and I dressed as an opera singer. I do like to sing, although not opera. But it was fun to dress up with the horned helmet and the long braided wig and everything.

* * *

November 4, 1964

First mate's log:

We had a fun Halloween this weekend, but now everyone, except the kids, is feeling more serious because yesterday was Election Day, and we didn't make it home in time to vote. Well, Mary Ann and I are both too young to vote, since I'm 20 and she's 19. But the other adults wish that they hadn't had to follow the campaign at a distance.

And then today Mr. Howell and the Skipper had one of their arguments about who's running the island, but this time the Professor said no one is. Ginger thinks we should hold an election to see who'll be president of the island. I'm glad I'm too young to vote. The Skipper is my boss and my best friend, but I like Mr. Howell, too, and I don't like having to take sides.

* * *

November 4, 1964

Well, none of us got to decide between Johnson and Goldwater, but now it looks like we have to decide between Grumby and Howell. The Skipper and the millionaire sometimes argue over who's in charge. The Skipper obviously is used to being in command at sea, but Mr. Howell has run several corporations. So Ginger suggested an election. The thing is, I don't want either man running the island. The Skipper has a short fuse and Mr. Howell is lazy. I'd much rather vote for someone even-tempered and hard-working, like Mike Brady.

I think I'll do a write-in vote for Mike. That way I can vote my conscience, even though he won't win. The Professor is converting the shower stall to a voting booth and we'll vote after he's done.

* * *

November 5, 1964

I'm President of the island! And I didn't even want to vote. When I said I was too young, the Professor said that the voting age on the island would be 18 instead of 21, so both Mary Ann and I could vote. But I just pretended to. First I faked an accident. Well, I mean it really happened, but not accidentally. I was supposed to draw the curtains on the voting booth, but I pulled the wrong string and got doused with water. That distracted everyone and no one noticed that I didn't actually fill out a ballot. Well, not until the Professor counted the votes.

First there were was a vote each for the candidates. They obviously voted for themselves. Then there was another vote each for them. I think the Professor voted for the Skipper, because I know he admires the Skipper more than he admires Mr. Howell. I wasn't sure who the other vote for Mr. Howell was though. I figured his wife would vote for him, but I think he bribed Ginger, promising to help her career. She tried to get me to vote for him. She was acting real seductive, and she had me backed up against a palm tree. I got so nervous I hit my head on the tree and knocked myself out. She was gone by the time I woke up. I should've just told her I wasn't going to vote, but that might not have stopped her.

Anyway, after those first four votes, the counting got complicated. There was a vote for me! And from the way Mary Ann was smiling at me, I had the feeling it was her vote. I wonder why she picked me, especially over two experienced leaders like Mr. Howell and the Skipper. And I didn't even know we were allowing write-in votes. But she had rubbed me with a towel after I got soaked, so I guess she likes me.

Then there was another write-in vote, for Mr. Brady! It was easy to figure out that it was from Alice, because she has a face like mine, where you can always tell what the person is thinking. It made sense for her to vote for her boss, and he would make a good leader I guess. I kind of wished I had thought of voting for him, but like I said, I didn't know we were allowed write-ins. Plus, the Skipper probably would've been mad if I voted for someone instead of him.

Then there was another vote for Mr. Brady, who looked a little embarrassed and said, "Well, I have some ideas about structures I'd like to see us build, and I figured that being President would allow me to move these projects forward."

So now there was a three-way tie, with two votes left to count. But Mrs. Howell would have to vote for her husband, right? I wasn't sure how Mrs. Martin would vote, but unless she voted for Mr. Howell, too, there would be a two-way tie, Mr. Howell and either the Skipper or Mr. Brady.

Then I got another vote! It turns out that Mrs. Howell wanted her husband to have time to finally take a honeymoon. I don't know where they'd have it though, on the other side of the island? She probably didn't realize that Mary Ann would write me in, too. So now it was a four-way tie!

"So with two more votes left—" The Professor looked all over the table. "One of the ballots is missing! We should've had ten total."

"I voted," Mrs. Martin said.

Then everyone looked at me and said, "Gilligan!"

"Well, I didn't want to have to play favorites."

That didn't make the Skipper or Mr. Howell any happier.

"Who did Mrs. Martin vote for?" Mary Ann asked.

The Professor unfolded the piece of paper and said, "Mike Brady."

Mr. Brady looked very surprised, but he wasn't the only one.

"Now you have to vote, Gilligan!" the Skipper shouted.

"Yes, My Boy, who do you want to tie with the architect?"

"How do you know he won't vote for me?" Mr. Brady asked.

I was afraid they'd get into a three-way argument. And even though I think they'd all make good leaders in different ways, I thought it should be someone who got along with everyone. "Can I vote for myself?"

The three candidates looked at me like I was crazy, even though they'd voted for themselves. But the Professor said, "Yes, if you think you'd make the best leader."

"OK, another write-in for me."

"Now it's a two-way tie between Mr. Brady and Gilligan," Alice pointed out.

"I guess we'll have to do a run-off," Mr. Brady said.

"A run-off? But I just got dry from the shower!" I objected.

The Professor explained that this would be another election, between the top two candidates. I didn't know if I wanted to go through this again. And if the six people who voted for me and Mr. Brady voted the same way again, how would the other four vote? Would Ginger vote for me or was she just flirting with me earlier to change my vote? The Professor would probably vote for Mr. Brady, since they're a lot alike, putting their brains ahead of their emotions. But Mr. Howell and the Skipper? Would they be mad at me for not voting for them? Well, maybe the Skipper would forgive me, but Mr. Howell would probably vote for Mr. Brady. And then we'd have another tie.

And then Greg and Marcia came over. The kids had been over at the little playground that we've built for them, with a sandbox, swings, a slide, and a seesaw. They sometimes play on the beach, but this is closer and safer, someplace they can be outdoors on their own.

Greg said, "We've been talking it over and we think we should be able to vote."

"What? All six of you?" Mrs. Howell said. "Even the infants?"

"No, just me and Marcia because we're the only ones old enough to read and write."

"You want us to lower the voting age from 18 to 7?" the Professor asked.

"Well, Sir, you need a tie-breaker, don't you?" Marcia said.

"I don't mind the kids voting," Mr. Brady said with a smile. Of course he must've figured his son would vote for him, and maybe he thought Marcia would, too. But what if she voted for me? Then we'd still need a tie-breaker.

"Uh, I guess it's OK," I said. Maybe five-year-old Peter Brady could be taught to write an X, and then he'd vote for his dad and this election would be over. I wouldn't mind losing to Mr. Brady. He'd make a better President than the Skipper or Mr. Howell anyway.

"Let me get you some ballots," the Professor said.

To save time, the two kids didn't use the voting booth. They just went to their own huts and wrote out their candidates' names. Then they came back and handed the slips of paper to the Professor.

He opened the first one and I could see it said "Gilligan," with circles over the I's. Probably Marcia's ballot. So we'd probably have to do the tie-breaker.

And then the Professor opened the other ballot and it said "Gilligan," too!

"I'm sorry, Dad," Greg said, "but it's like Mrs. Howell said about her husband."  
"You want me to go on a honeymoon?"

"No, but the stuff about being so busy. If you were President, you might be too busy to play ball and teach and everything. Peter and I talked about it and we want you to just be our dad, and an ark'teck."

Mr. Brady looked happy that his sons wanted so much of his time.

Then Mary Ann kissed my cheek. "Congratulations, Gilligan!" And that's when it really sunk in. I'm President of the island!

* * *

November 5, 1964

I still can't believe it. Gilligan was elected yesterday! I can see Mary Ann voting for him. As she put it, Gilligan is her man, and I knew she didn't just mean as a candidate. But that he could win other votes, including my own daughter's, I just can't believe.

He wanted help building a well, which is admittedly an important project, but I obviously couldn't help him, and everyone else was too busy. He got so mad at everyone that he threw down his shovel and accidentally hit a spring. Yes, at least some of his accidents are lucky ones. But I still don't think he should be President. And now he wants to build a lookout tower.

* * *

November 15, 1964

I had to resign as President. No one would listen to me. Besides, I ended up doing more work when I was in charge than when I was following someone else's orders.


	8. Dramas

November 26, 1964

Carol Martin's diary:

We had a nice Thanksgiving dinner, even if it was odd to have dishes like lobster and pineapple. But I am thankful that my girls and I are alive and well. I wish we were home but there are certainly worse places we could've been marooned.

* * *

December 10, 1964

First mate's log:

We put on a play yesterday. When Ginger took the three-hour tour, she brought along the script for _Pyramid for Two,_ which she was supposed to be opening in on Broadway this week. She was sad about not getting to do it, so we decided to stage it here. I had to help the Professor and Mr. Brady build the stage.

The problem was that Mrs. Howell got jealous of Mr. Howell complimenting Ginger when he was directing rehearsals. Ginger was Cleopatra and Mrs. Howell was her maid. Mrs. Howell demanded the lead role, and then Alice was the maid, yeah, typecasting. I felt bad for Ginger, since we were supposed to be doing the play to cheer her up. I talked to Mrs. Howell about it but she didn't say anything. It turned out she had laryngitis! So Ginger got to do the play after all. Alice still played the maid.

* * *

Dec 25, 1964

It's been quiet the last few weeks, other than a staging of a play starring Ginger. I didn't have much involvement, other than working on costumes with Mary Ann. It was nice to see live drama, although no one was at Ginger's acting level of course, particularly the Skipper as Marc Antony. But for an amateur production it was fine. The children seemed to enjoy it, although Cindy cried during. I never would've taken her to see a play back home, but we're all of course much more informal here.

And now it's Christmas. Obviously there was no mad rush to buy gifts, no shopping at all. All the gifts had to be handmade. I made stuffed animals for the children (using fur from animals Mike hunted for food), and sewed clothes for the adults. And all the gifts I received were handmade as well.

I of course have been thinking about Tim and my parents. And Jack, who's getting married this week. I wish I could be with them, especially this time of year. But maybe next year we can all go home.

The Skipper dressed up as Santa Claus and the children were thrilled. He's got the build for it, although he had to wear a beard of course. He gave a lovely speech about how lucky we are that we weren't lost at sea and instead found this island with all this food. And he pointed out that we're safe and we all get along (mostly).

And then he showed up a minute after "Santa" left, now minus the beard and red suit! I don't know how he changed so quickly. Or could it have really have been—? No, that's impossible!

* * *

January 1, 1965

Happy New Year. I hope we get rescued before 1965 is over.

* * *

January 8, 1965

The Skipper kept having dreams last week about a ship passing the island, so when he was awake he wanted Gilligan to build a lookout tower, which ironically is what Gilligan wanted to do a couple months ago when he was President. But before Gilligan could get started on the tower, he won three million dollars on a golf bet with Mr. Howell! Then Mr. Howell tricked Gilligan into buying a seemingly worthless stock and then won it back playing pool with the Skipper, during the time that the stock seemed to be worth something after all, but wasn't.

Sometimes I just shake my head over this sort of thing. It passes the time of course but it all comes to nothing in the end. OK, so I did offer to make Gilligan dinner when I thought he was rich, but it was his idea to offer to pay for the children's college education (along with a boat for the Skipper, a farm for Mary Ann, and so on).

* * *

January 15, 1965

Well, I was sort of a millionaire a couple weeks ago but Mr. Howell is too tricky for me. Everyone was extra nice to me when they thought I had money, especially Ginger. She not only seemed like she was going to kiss me, but she wanted to play my wife in the Hollywood story of my life, even though I'm not married.

She mostly flirts with me when she wants something, but not only. Like, yesterday the Professor thought we were running out of water! The Skipper had me on a contraption with a bicycle, pedaling away to bring up water, but it wasn't working. The Professor was worried about our water supply running out. He said it was very serious. We have salt water all around us of course, but what would we do without fresh water?

I raced through the jungle to tell the Skipper, but then I saw that someone was taking a shower. (The Professor turned it back from a voting stall. I don't think we'll have another election for awhile, not after how the last one turned out.) I tried to stop the person, but I slipped and slid in the mud, right next to the stall! I was face down and I could see bare feet, Ginger's!

She wanted me to hand her a tiny little towel! I did but I was worried I'd see too much of her when she came out of the stall. Then it turned out to be just for her hair, and she had a bigger towel for her body, so I saw her shoulders and arms and stuff, but nothing I shouldn't see. (Some of the towels are from _The Minnow_ and others are ones that the millionaires brought, yeah, Howell towels.)

She told me I shouldn't be so shy. "You know, I think under all that mud, there's a charming, attractive man." I didn't know what to say to that. No girl's ever said anything like that to me before. And she wasn't trying to trick me or get me to do something for Mr. Howell or anything. Maybe she just likes to flirt. I don't know. And then she left before I could think of what to say back.

She distracted me so much that I forgot that we're supposed to save water. And I took a shower to get the mud off me. But the Skipper came by and saw Ginger's scarf that she left behind, so he thought she was still in the shower. He gave me a flower, my first corsage, so I joked about if that meant we were engaged.

Then I remembered about the water shortage, so I told him. We had to all ration water, but the girls and the Howells stole some when I was supposed to be guarding the supply. The Skipper made them return it. Then I ended up spilling it all. The Skipper got really mad.

He was still mad at me the next day. Everyone was.

So I wrote a note that said, " _Dear Folks, Every time I try to do something right, everything goes wrong. Maybe everybody would be better off without me."_ I figured I could go live on the other side of the island, although I don't know how long I would've survived without water.

But then a frog came over and got the paper wet with his feet. I like animals, and I really liked this one when I realized it must've got its feet wet on the island and frogs are fresh-water animals. I followed it, hoping it would lead me to water. Well, I ended up falling down a big hole. It was an underground cave full of fresh water! The only problem was getting out of there. Luckily, everyone came looking for me and they weren't mad anymore, even before they found out about the cave.

* * *

January 16, 1965

Oh, I was so mad at Gilligan yesterday! Well, not only him but him more than anyone.

You see, a couple days ago, the Professor said we were running out of fresh water! I was so upset that I couldn't write about it. We've had other crises before but we've gotten through them. This was the most serious and there seemed to be no solution in sight. As the mother of three small children, my concern was mostly for them. I was willing to take smaller rations to help them survive longer. And Mike felt the same way about his sons. But we didn't steal water from the remaining supply, like Ginger, Mary Ann, and the Howells did that night. At least the Skipper made them return it and no damage was done, until Gilligan spilled the water!

We were all angry with him, even the people who tricked him when he was guarding the water. His feelings were hurt and he wrote what seemed to be a suicide note! Alice and I stayed in camp with the children, while the others went looking for him. Mary Ann said, "If we ever do find him, we'll hug him, and squeeze him, and kiss him and—" Then Ginger replied, "Hey, what are we waiting for? Let's go!" I don't know if she was just being a flirtatious actress or if she has genuine designs on that boy. I would still matchmake him with Mary Ann if I had the chance, since she's more his speed. But he's pretty bashful with girls, and I don't know if he's ready to be matchmade. At that moment of course, it was most important to find out if he was still alive.

It turned out Gilligan had fallen into an underground cave, and was knee-deep in fresh water! So everything turned out all right, as I suppose it always does, but things were tense around here for awhile.


	9. Fear and Courage

January 22, 1965

First mate's log:

Wow, someone else visited the island, but he wasn't as friendly as Mr. Feldman! He was a Japanese soldier who spoke English but didn't know the war was over. He captured all of us, even the kids! He didn't seem to be violent, but he didn't like us being on "his" island. He arrived and left in a submarine. I don't think he's going to tell anyone we're here.

* * *

January 23, 1965

Carol Martin's diary:

As if the fear of dehydration hadn't been a bad enough experience, a couple days ago we were all captured by a Japanese soldier! I tried not to act scared, for my daughters' sakes, but it was very upsetting, even if the man didn't seem violent. To my surprise, Gilligan freed us. Then the soldier went away in his one-man sub. I've felt so safe here, perhaps too safe, with no crime to worry about. (Well, theft but the thieves are always caught.) I mostly trust the others but now I worry about who else will land on the island, and if the next man might be violent. I don't want to live in fear, but it's hard not to.

Oh, I wish Tim were here! Yes, there are men among us, but it's different when you have your own man beside you, day and night.

* * *

January 29, 1965

I found a treasure chest yesterday! We argued about how to split it, then Mr. Brady, whose grandfather is a judge, said that anything we find on the island should be split equally. Mr. Howell thought this was unfair because that means that the kids would each get a share, and so it'd be like Mr. Brady would get one-quarter of island resources, since he'd manage the little boys' shares. Then Mr. Howell offered us each $100,000 for our shares, which means the Brady and Martin families got $400,000 each. But when it turned out that the chest was full of cannonballs, none of us held him to the agreement. We're going to use the cannonballs for a bowling alley, so that way everyone gets to share them. (Well, not the kids, since the balls are too heavy.)

* * *

February 5, 1965

Oh, I hope no one ever comes to our island again! No, I know, we need to be rescued, but my fears of a violent visitor came true, in fact more than one violent visitor. Gangsters invaded our island! The main one was Jackson Farrell, who pretended to be a doctor until Gilligan discovered his identity. Thank goodness he didn't harm any of us, but he did have a gun, which Ginger tried and failed to take away from him. (She's braver than I would expect a Hollywood actress to be.) In the end, his gang came and got him and they all left the island, Gilligan having "accidentally" shredded his bag of loot. Perhaps I've underestimated that boy. Perhaps his bumbling hides his cleverness. Or perhaps it's just dumb luck.

* * *

February 11, 1965

The Skipper's having me build a playroom. Not like the little playground we have for the kids, but a place for us adults to hang out and have fun. We might even hold dances, like for Valentine's Day. I wonder if I would be too shy to ask one of the girls to dance. But I think it'd be OK because people don't really dance these days. They just choose up sides. And I'm pretty good at the Twist. We hear about new dances on the radio, but we don't know what they look like.

* * *

February 11, 1965

The batteries to the radio, made by one of Mr. Howell's companies, have gone dead. I like having that link with the outside world, I mean the non-threatening part of it. The children like to listen to _Uncle Artie's Storytime_ and all of us adults have our favorite programs. Sometimes I'll listen to show biz news with Ginger, but I also try to keep up on hard news, although I worry about Tim being shipped out to Vietnam, if he hasn't already been. I'll admit sometimes I like to get lost in the lives on the soap operas that Mary Ann and Alice follow, because the crises are so serious but fortunately fictional.

Oh, and we're planning a Valentine's Dance but that will be difficult without music from the radio. No, no, I'm not going there for romance myself, but it'd be a perfect opportunity to nudge some of the single people together. The Professor might be able to recharge the batteries, and if not, maybe he could build a bamboo record player. The Howells brought along some of their LPs. Yes, they truly over-packed, but I'm grateful for that.

* * *

February 12, 1965

Wow! Yesterday the radio batteries died but the Skipper had some rechargeable ones, and the Professor knew how to recharge them with seawater. (It has nothing to do with credit cards.) And when the radio went back on, we found out that a deadly missile was going to be launched just about where this island is. And it's being launched today at noon!

Mary Ann brought me two coconut cream pies this morning because she thought she hadn't been nice enough to me, which is silly, because she's the nicest person on the island. And then the Skipper gave me one of the pies she made for him. I love her pies, but that was too much even for me. The Skipper and I ended up throwing them in each other's faces.

I can't believe I'm, we're all, going to be dead in a couple hours. Life on the island hasn't been perfect of course, but I've been pretty happy here, happier than I expected to be. And soon it's going to be over. And then it won't matter how much pie I ate.

* * *

February 12, 1965

I went for a walk after breakfast, trying to fathom that I, the children, every one of us will soon be dead. I couldn't tell my daughters about the missile that's headed towards the island, an island that the government thinks is uninhabited. I couldn't write about it after I heard. I guess I felt like if I didn't say anything, to my daughters or to my journal, then it wasn't real. But I knew it was.

Life on the island used to have its mishaps and crises, but it seems like in the last few weeks, it's gotten worse and worse. With the water shortage and the hostile visitors, there were solutions, even if we couldn't see them at first. But now? Nothing can save us from this missile.

I left my girls playing in their playground, with Alice looking after them. I needed time alone, to pull myself together and put on a happy face for their sakes. But in the jungle, I ran into Mike, who was whispering to himself.

"I'm sorry," I said, backing away.

"No, don't go. You're the only one who can really understand what I'm going through."

I've seen this strong, sensible man cry, when he first lost his wife, but this was different now. He was scared, but he had to hide it from his children, like I did. We talked about how hard that was, and all the hopes and dreams we had for them: growing up, going to college, having families of their own. Even Greg is only nine, far too young to die. And then there are hopes and dreams for ourselves, not just as parents. Mike wants to build important structures, "not just rinky-dink little bamboo huts." I reminded him that we wouldn't have survived without his architectural skills.

We both took comfort from the talk, which may sound funny with doom still hanging over our heads. After he patted my arm and left, I started writing in here. And now I'm going to go back to my children. I don't know if I can tell them the truth, especially not two-year-old Cindy, but I can at least be there with them, comforting them, whatever happens. I still have my fears, but I won't let that stop me.

* * *

February 13, 1965

Well, the Professor made a mirror to signal the search plane that they sent to make sure the area was clear before launching the missile, but, well, I broke the mirror. Then when the missile landed, it didn't explode. Instead, it chased me! And I was the only one skinny enough (not counting the kids of course) to crawl inside and disarm it, following the Professor's instructions. Then the missile took off again, with me inside!

It headed for the lagoon and out to sea. I guess I could've stayed on and tried to get rescued but I was afraid it would explode out there, with me trapped. So I jumped off and swam back to shore. I'm too worn out to build the playroom and everyone else seems to have forgotten about the Valentine's Dance anyway. I'm just glad to be safe and dry again.

* * *

February 13, 1965

For all his mistakes, Gilligan has a courage and daring I've never seen in anyone before. Not only did he try to disarm the missile, but he rode it out to sea! We thought we'd lost him. The children, who adore him, were saddest of all. Well, them and Mary Ann. We were all relieved when he returned to us, sopping wet. And Mary Ann ran to get a towel to dry him off.

The Valentine's Dance has been forgotten by everyone I think, but I'll look for other opportunities to get those two together. And I'll try not to think about how tomorrow will be my first Valentine's Day without Tim in ten years.


	10. Jungle Boy and Surfer Boy

February 20, 1965

First mate's log:

We had another kid on the island! I don't know if he was here all along or if he just showed up somehow. He didn't speak English and he dressed and acted like a jungle boy, except he was white instead of a native. He was about twelve and all the little kids thought he was great. Greg Brady got the boy to teach him how to swing from vines, but he wasn't very good at it. (It's harder than it looks.)

The jungle boy showed me where there's a helium fountain. The Professor had us make a balloon big enough to carry one of us to civilization. Alice and Mary Ann sewed together all our raincoats for the balloon part. The Skipper and I made the basket.

All the men drew straws for who would go in the balloon. The Skipper "won" but he was too heavy to lift. Then we thought about sending the jungle boy up, but the women were too worried about his safety. So we were going to send a note instead, but I guess the jungle boy overheard us and understood part of it, because he left in the balloon! He made it back to civilization OK, but of course he couldn't talk to anyone and tell them about us.

Oh well, at least I learned to swing from vines a little.

* * *

February 20, 1965

Carol Martin's diary:

A young boy of about twelve was living all alone on the island! We have no idea who he was or where he came from, since he didn't speak English, or any other recognizable language. I wanted to adopt him, a big brother for my girls, but of course that wasn't really possible. And now he's gone, having flown off in the helium balloon that was meant to be our chance for rescue. He can't tell anyone where we are and we're just as stuck here as ever.

Now that Cindy is two, I'm starting to want another baby. The girls are all three years apart, and I'm still a young woman really, if not as young as Mary Ann. What if we don't get rescued, or not for a very long time? I'll never see Tim again, never have another child. Even though the jungle boy was almost a teenager, he made me think about what it would be like to have a larger family. I'd like that. I love my girls so much, but I have more love to give. But I have to accept that it just may not be possible.

* * *

February 25, 1965

Wow, another visitor! This one can speak English, except that a lot of it is surfing slang. His name is Duke Williams, and the Howells think he's a real duke, you know, like a prince. The Professor figured out that Duke rode on a sue-nommy, which is a huge tidal wave caused by an earthquake. Duke covered 250 miles in five days!

He's going to rest up and then surf back to Hawaii when a reverse sue-nommy comes along soon. Then we'll be rescued!

* * *

February 25, 1965

Well, we've got another visitor, a surfer boy rather than a jungle boy. Except that this boy is definitely grown up. He hit on me! Duke Williams is very good-looking. (He reminds me of my high school boyfriend, Tank Gates, blond, muscular, but not too bright.) But I'm a married woman! OK, so it was flattering to be flirted with, even if I didn't understand at first what he meant by calling me "a way out chick." But I would never cheat on Tim. After all, I've been on a deserted island with four eligible bachelors all these months, and I've been completely faithful.

Then Duke asked, "What about the gidget in short-shorts? Is she going steady with anyone?"

"Well, no," I admitted. I still want Mary Ann (who's petite but hardly a girl midget) to get together with Gilligan, but nothing is happening there. And both she and Ginger clearly find Duke attractive. So I didn't stand in his way. He ended up flirting with both girls, who flirted back.

He arrived here on his surfboard, via a tsunami, and the Professor says a reverse tsunami is on its way. Duke is supposed to rest up so he can rescue us, but I'm afraid he's too distracted right now. I can't imagine him wanting to leave any time soon. And Greg, who's only nine, wants surfing lessons! Poor Mike.

* * *

February 26, 1965

Wow! I kissed Mary Ann! A bunch of times!

See, it looked like Duke didn't want to leave the island because he was too distracted by the girls. And they seemed to like him, too. I tried lifting weights so I could build up my muscles, but I could never be like him. Well, anyway, the girls liked flirting with him but they want to be rescued.

So Mr. Howell thought if Ginger and Mary Ann seemed like they were interested in other men, he'd want to catch the reverse sue-nommy. Ginger chose the Professor for her pretend boyfriend, and Mary Ann chose me! I was surprised they didn't pick Mr. Brady, because he's handsome and smart like the Professor, but with more of a sense of humor. But I guess since Duke knows that Mr. Brady is mourning his wife, maybe they didn't think Duke would believe it.

Tonight we two "couples" went into the jungle, in separate places, and had pretend dates. I don't know what happened with the Professor and Ginger, but Mary Ann sat in my lap and we kissed until my knees hurt. Then I sat in her lap and we kissed some more. She said she liked my little muscles more than Duke's big muscles. I know it was just an act, but I liked having a girl seem interested in me. And she's a really good kisser.

I did feel funny in front of an audience. We could hear Duke rustling the bushes as he watched. I hope he surfs away tomorrow.

* * *

February 27, 1965

Well, Mrs. Howell thought of a scheme (which Mr. Howell took credit for) to make Duke jealous and want to leave the island. I was afraid it would backfire and he'd want to fight Gilligan and the Professor, who pretended to be Mary Ann and Ginger's boyfriends. I suspect that Mrs. Howell may be even more of a matchmaker than I am, and she may've just wanted to nudge the two couples together. Neither girl has confided in me, but they both came back to the camp smiling, so I guess the dates were fun, even if they were fake.

As for Duke, he's surfing back to Hawaii. I hope he makes it. And maybe in a week I'll see Tim again!


	11. Gorilla, Headhunter, Aviator

March 6, 1965

First Mate's log:

Well, it looks like we're not going to be rescued, again. Duke made it back to Hawaii, after a week, but he hit his head on a rock and lost his memory. Maybe he'll be cured, but I'm not getting my hopes up.

* * *

March 7, 1965

Carol Martin's diary:

Not only did Duke Williams get amnesia after returning to Honolulu, but Mr. Howell accused all of us of stealing Mrs. Howell's diamond brooch! He later had Gilligan relay his apologies, and an offer of a $10,000 reward to whoever finds the brooch. Imagine what I could do with that money once we get back home! I could buy the girls anything they want, and send them to college someday. Marcia and Jan are going to help me look, while Alice looks after Cindy.

* * *

March 7, 1965

I saw a big gorilla outside our window last night, but the Skipper didn't believe me. Then I saw the gorilla again in the jungle, while we were looking for a brooch Mrs. Howell lost. I like animals, but that gorilla is scary. I don't really want to be going all over the island right now, even if Mr. Howell is offering a big reward.

* * *

March 8, 1965

A gorilla kidnapped Mrs. Howell yesterday! It took her to a cave and no one could lure it out to rescue Mrs. Howell. Then the Professor said that the gorilla was attracted to Mrs. Howell's perfume. Gilligan went to get some to bait a trap, but he accidentally spilled it all over himself, so the gorilla kidnapped him! Gilligan escaped when the gorilla met a female gorilla. You can imagine how difficult it was to explain all this to Marcia and Jan.

* * *

March 13, 1965

I tried to save Mary Ann from drowning in the lagoon today, but the Skipper had to save us both. I got real down in the dumps, so Mrs. Howell sickle-annual-ized me. Then later, I tried to rescue the Skipper from a fallen log, but I dropped it and it pinned down both of us. The Professor had to rescue both of us.

Then I saw a headhunter! But nobody believed me, just like they didn't believe me about the gorilla at first.

* * *

March 14, 1965

Oh, poor Gilligan! Mrs. Howell told me he's a delusional depressive. Apparently, he tried to rescue some people yesterday and it didn't work out. As for the delusions, he thinks he saw a headhunter, although no one else has seen any sign of such a person. I certainly hope it's a delusion!

The Skipper told me he's going to dress up as a headhunter and pretend to take prisoners, so that Gilligan can rescue them and get his confidence back. He decided not to take me, Mike, or Alice, since it would be upsetting for the children. As it is, I'm going to have to tell my girls that it's just a game and they're not supposed to say anything to Gilligan about it.

* * *

March 14, 1965

The Skipper tried to play a trick on me, pretending to be a headhunter so I would rescue some of the castaways. But I overheard him. Then the real headhunter kidnapped some of them, and I thought it was the Skipper, so I wasn't scared. Then the Skipper showed up and I realized who the real headhunter was. I ran around and accidentally pushed the headhunter into a fire, which made him run to the lagoon and then swim away. So everyone says I'm a hero now, but it was just luck.

* * *

March 20, 1965

We've had so many visitors recently, including, as it turned out, a real headhunter that Gilligan scared away, but the last thing I expected was the return of Wrongway Feldman. We thought at first he'd arrived here accidentally, but then he explained that he was fleeing civilization. He doesn't understand why we want to go back.

Mr. Howell tried bribing him, but he sees money as part of the problem with civilization. He said, "You have everything here you could want, without paying for it." Well, yes, we have the basics, but there's so much we're missing out on.

The Skipper faked an illness, so Wrongway would go get a doctor in his plane, but Mr. Feldman offered to remove the Skipper's appendix! I don't know what would motivate Wrongway, but the Skipper hasn't given up hope and I'm sure he'll come up with another scheme.

* * *

March 21, 1965

Wrongway Feldman came back! But he doesn't understand why we want to be rescued. We tried different things and then finally the Skipper had me pretend to have bola-bola fever. And this morning Wrongway left a note saying he'd flown back to the mainland to get help. Maybe this time we can be rescued, if he doesn't get lost again.

* * *

March 21, 1965

Well, Gilligan pretended to have bola-bola fever, but all that happened was Wrongway flew back to the mainland to get serum, without telling anyone why. The next plan, which Mike came up with, is to make it seem like we're tired of what Mr. Feldman calls our "unspoiled island paradise," and we're going to develop it. Mike is drawing up some plans of things for the men to build to drive Wrongway crazy and want to escape our island, this time telling the authorities where we are. I hope it works!

* * *

March 22, 1965

Mr. Brady is having us build a little city on the island, so that Wrongway will want to leave. We're also giving Wrongway a lot of work to do. I just hope we don't wear him out so much he can't fly. Oh, and we're trying to be as noisy as possible, too, even when we eat and sleep.

* * *

March 29, 1965

Well, Mike's plan worked, sort of. Wrongway did leave, after the Skipper loaded his plane with maps of the island. But today we got a bottle message saying that Wrongway has landed on another tropical island, one with peaceful natives. And now the men are taking down the "city" so that they can reuse the wood for other projects, hopefully more successful ones.


	12. The Matchmaker

April 2, 1965

First mate's log:

The Howells have invited me and Mary Ann to dinner tonight, which is nice of them. (Alice is cooking it.) This morning I helped carry Mary Ann to camp after she hurt her foot in one of my traps. (Not a bear trap or anything that would cause serious injury.) Then later Mrs. Howell had me deliver some flowers to Mary Ann.

Mr. Howell talked to me about how wonderful marriage is. And then later Ginger seemed to be hinting that she has a crush on me! That explains why she tries to kiss me so much. I wonder why she didn't choose me for her pretend boyfriend when Duke Williams was here. Maybe she didn't want to pretend about something she'd really like. Or maybe Mary Ann picked me first. Anyway, what I think is going on is that they want to make Ginger jealous by having her think I like Mary Ann. I mean, I do like her, but not the kind of like where I'd want to marry her. I don't want to marry anyone. I'm too young and I don't really understand girls.

Anyway, I've got to get ready for dinner, combing my hair and stuff, and I hear Skipper coming back to the hut so I'd better hide you.

* * *

April 2, 1965

Well, Mrs. Howell is a braver woman than I am. She's now overtly scheming to matchmake Gilligan and Mary Ann! She told me about it this afternoon, since I'm the only other married woman on the island, and she had a hunch I would sympathize. Well, I do of course, but I'm not sure about her methods.

Apparently, it all started this morning, when she saw Gilligan carrying Mary Ann. I know from talking to the Professor, who looked at Mary Ann's foot, that she'd injured it and Gilligan was just helping her back to camp. But Mrs. Howell, who misses all the high society events, like weddings, decided she would orchestrate a less grand wedding here on the island. After all, we have a captain who could perform marriages at sea. I pointed out we would need a vessel for him to perform the ceremony on, but she said that that could be taken care of once the engagement was announced.

Mrs. Howell had Gilligan deliver flowers to Mary Ann's bed while she was gone, to make her think that the flowers were from him, although of course she didn't tell Gilligan. And then she had a talk with Mary Ann about marriage, pointing out that we may never get rescued (I really hope she's wrong!), so Mary Ann should consider the three eligible bachelors on the island. (She didn't mention Mike, since he's still grieving Barbara, and taking on three stepchildren might be a lot for a young woman, even one as sweet and hard-working as Mary Ann.) Mary Ann said that she's too young for the Skipper and has nothing in common with the Professor, but she didn't voice any reservations about Gilligan.

Mrs. Howell has invited both Gilligan and Mary Ann to dinner tonight. Alice has agreed to cook it, as well as the meal for the rest of us. (Ginger and I will pitch in on the latter.) I think Alice suspects what Mrs. Howell is up to, although we haven't compared notes yet. Ginger just knows that Gilligan brought Mary Ann flowers and she told me that she gave him some encouragement in pursuing Mary Ann, since he's so shy.

I'm obviously very curious to see how this all turns out. I don't agree with Mrs. Howell manipulating the young couple, but if it works, it works. And they are right for each other, so hopefully the nudging will help. I'm just afraid it all might backfire somehow. After all, if Gilligan can mess up so many rescues, he can probably mess this up.

* * *

April 3, 1965

Well, the dinner didn't go how I expected. Before I left, the Skipper, Mr. Howell, and Mr. Brady were teasing me about giving Mary Ann flowers, even though the flowers weren't really from me. They said Mary Ann has a crush on me, but I told them that Ginger does.

I went over to the Howells' hut and Mary Ann was there, looking cute with a bow in her hair. The Howells went outside to get a bottle of champagne that was cooling in the stream. I felt kind of shy and awkward being alone with Mary Ann, and she seemed to feel that way, too. I found out that she thought the flowers were from me. We cleared that up but it sort of felt like a date. Maybe she does have a crush on me. I might have one on her.

But before we could figure out how we felt about each other, the Howells came back and started talking about the night he proposed to her. They couldn't agree on any of the details except that it was a French restaurant in Manhattan. They got into such a big fight that he's moved in with me and the Skipper, and she's moved in with Ginger and Mary Ann. And now everyone's arguing about the Howells' argument.

* * *

April 3, 1965

I had an argument with Mike. The dinner that the Howells invited Gilligan and Mary Ann to apparently didn't go well, although it wasn't at all Gilligan's fault. I don't know the details but instead of getting the young couple together, the Howells argued about the dinner they had the night he proposed. Mike blames Mrs. Howell for trying to matchmake in the first place. Even though I disagreed with her methods, she meant well.

And now the Skipper wants to recreate that evening from twenty years ago. Ginger has been to that restaurant, so she can describe it in such a way that hopefully it'll match the memories of both Mr. and Mrs. Howell. Alice will be the chef, the Professor the maitre d', and Gilligan and Mary Ann the wait-staff. Ginger will sing a French song. The Skipper and Mike are going to make some small construction changes to the Howells' hut (since it's empty now that they've both moved out), and I'm in charge of interior design, with Marcia and Jan helping. I hope this works out and doesn't lead to another set of arguments.

* * *

April 4, 1965

The Skipper came up with a plan to get the Howells back together, where we made their hut into the restaurant the proposal was in. Except for me spilling soup on the Skipper, when Ginger was doing a hula dance, it turned out well. At least the Howells aren't mad at each other anymore, and neither is anyone else, not even the Skipper at me. He's just glad to have Mr. Howell out of our hut.

* * *

April 4, 1965

Oh dear. The Howells are back together, but now Mrs. Howell wants to matchmake the Professor and Ginger! She's promised me she'll use subtler, more long-range methods this time, but I don't know about this.


	13. Music, Crime, Turtles, and Ice Cream

April 9, 1965

First mate's log:

I learned how to make a drum and I've been having fun playing it. Mrs. Howell heard me and now she wants everyone to be in an orchestra, which is a fancy word for a band. We're making instruments and even Bobby and Cindy want to play. I don't know who we'll perform for if everyone's in it, but maybe if we get good enough by the time we're rescued, we can have concerts. I prefer rock & roll, but Mr. Howell, who's the conductor, wants to teach us classical.

* * *

April 10, 1965

Carol Martin's diary:

Along with society weddings, Mrs. Howell also misses the symphony, so she had us all quickly form an orchestra, with home-made instruments. It seemed sort of silly, but it was a good distraction for everyone, especially the children, who threw themselves whole-heartedly into playing kazoos, tambourines, and so on.

Unfortunately, natives from a neighboring island heard Gilligan's drums and thought they were war drums and attacked the island! We all hid in a cave. The men tried various methods to scare the natives off, none of which worked. In the end, the natives understood that we were just making music for the joy of music, and they joined in. If only all such visits could end so happily!

* * *

April 15, 1965

The Skipper and Mr. Howell have been betting against each other in turtle races. The Skipper was losing and then I noticed that his turtle really likes carrots, so I said he should go ahead with the bet that he said no to, my services. (Mr. Howell wants me to be his houseboy.) Unfortunately, Ginger got the secret out of me, and she told Mr. Howell, who bought up all of Mary Ann's vegetables for thousands of dollars. So the Skipper lost. I like the Howells, but I'd rather work for the Skipper.

* * *

April 16, 1965

Mr. Howell and the Skipper have been doing a series of silly bets, on turtle races! I was very annoyed when I heard they were using Gilligan as one of the "bids." But Ginger used her old horoscope magazine to convince the Skipper that today, the 16th, was his lucky day, and Mr. Howell had come to realize that Gilligan isn't much of a prize as a servant. So Gilligan is back where he belongs, with the Skipper.

The only good thing to come out of this is that Ginger found out the Skipper's birthday, May 5th. Alice has agreed to cook some Mexican food (as well as she can on this island), so the Skipper will think we're having a Cinco de Mayo party, but it'll actually turn out to be a surprise party for him.

* * *

April 23, 1965

There are a bunch of gangsters hiding in a cave! Me and the Skipper heard them talking but we haven't seen them yet. We're all going to stay up late and figure out what to do.

* * *

April 24, 1965

There are gansters on the island again! We haven't seen them yet but the Skipper and Gilligan heard them. Also, they have a pet parrot who flew into camp, and he's repeating words and phrases he must've picked up from them.

Last night, before the parrot, Sam, arrived, the others stayed up till dawn figuring out a plan. Alice and I slept as well as we could, trying to keep the children calm. Apparently, Ginger came up with a plan based on the movie _Beau Geste._ So today we made dummies that look like all of us, and we propped them up in the Howells' windows, to fool the gangsters. But Sam was the only one who showed up.

* * *

April 25, 1965

Well, it turned out that the parrot we found today was only repeating a news story from sixty years ago. There are no gangsters on the island. Hopefully, things can get back to normal.

* * *

April 25, 1965

Yesterday the men found a newspaper article from 1906 about an art museum robbery. The Professor claims that the parrot was parroting that. I decided not to ask him how a parrot can read. My theory is that parrots live a long time and Sam was the criminals' pet and had outlived them. The important thing is that we're safe. And the children are having fun playing with the dummies.

* * *

April 30, 1965

This morning when I was digging a bait trap, I found the Eye of the Idol! At least that's what the Skipper said it was. He told me it would grant three wishes. So, to test it, I asked for a gallon of ice cream, and sure enough a gallon of chocolate washed up in the lagoon. The Professor thinks it just fell off a freighter or a plane by coincidence. I don't care where it came from, it sure tasted good. I shared it with everyone, and the kids were really happy.

Alice kept saying she knew she shouldn't have any, but she still had a couple spoonfuls. She thinks she's fat but she's not. I mean, she weighs more than the other ladies, but she's not as fat as the Skipper.

I gave some thought to what I wanted for my second wish. I know the last wish has to be to get us off the island. But what else do I want?

While I was lying in my hammock trying to decide, Ginger got real cozy with me and wanted me to wish to be a movie star so I'd pick a co-star. I said I would pick Lassie, because she's a really good actress for a dog and she has lots of action scenes.

Mr. Howell tried to steal the magic stone from me, but the Skipper says it'll only grant wishes to me until I use all of mine up. So I wished for a gallon of vanilla ice cream, and Mary Ann brought some in. The kids were really happy again.

I kind of want to wish for strawberry, but I guess I'd better wish us all off the island. I've got to go pack now.

* * *

April 30, 1965

I don't know why I still get my hopes up, after so many disappointments. But this time it seemed like we were really going to leave the island, as implausible as that sounded at first.

Gilligan found what the Skipper claimed was a magic stone that grants three wishes. Mike and I were very skeptical, although our children all believed, especially when Gilligan kept wishing for ice cream. We went along with it when everyone gathered down at the lagoon for Gilligan to wish us back home. As Mike said, "This is probably crazy, but what if it isn't?"

The Professor was even more skeptical than we were of course. He refused to believe in the "Eye of the Idol." He insisted that none of us were going anywhere. And of course he didn't pack.

Then soft-hearted Mary Ann said she didn't want the Professor to be left all alone on the island. (I don't think she likes him in the way that Ginger does, although it is a possibility.) Mrs. Howell didn't think they should stay here without a chaperone. Gradually, all of us agreed to stay with the Professor rather than leave him behind. So he gave in and joined us.

We all stood close together. I had Cindy in my arms, and Marcia and Jan hugging me. Then Gilligan wished for us all to get off the island. And the piece of land we were standing on broke away!

The Professor said that the soil was loosened by Giligan's bait trap. But when Gilligan threw the stone into the jungle, the Professor was just as eager as any of us to go find it and get three wishes. I know, I know, but it was worth trying. And the kids had fun looking before we all gave up.


	14. The Skipper's Not So Happy Birthday

May 4, 1965

First mate's log:

No, we didn't leave the island. Well, not exactly. A piece of land broke off and we were in the lagoon, but that doesn't really count. I pretended to throw the magic stone in the jungle and everyone went looking for it. But I decided to hold onto it until I can decide who would make the best wishes.

I thought about giving it to the Skipper for his birthday, which is tomorrow, but he's upset about the little tiki statue we found while digging the refrigeration pit. The tiki is a symbol of Kona, an ancient native god. The Professor thinks we're being superstitious (he didn't believe in the Eye of the Idol either and almost stayed behind), but we didn't want to take any chances. We buried Kona under the pit and then we went to get one of Mr. Howell's trunks. But by the time we got to his hut, Kona was sitting on top of a cabinet!

The Skipper thought that Kona was following him, so he had me bury it somewhere else. There was an earthquake and thunder & lightning, so I just threw the statue in the jungle and ran back to camp. When the Skipper found out what happened, he made me go back with him and look for Kona, because it has to be really buried. The Skipper fell in quicksand while we were looking. I thought he drowned while I was getting vines to save him, but he saved himself.

He's making me look all over the island, but I had to write this down before I get too tired.

* * *

May 5, 1965

Carol Martin's Diary:

We're getting ready for the Cinco de Mayo/ surprise birthday party, but unfortunately the Skipper's superstition is causing him to be depressed. He thinks a little statue he and Gilligan found, which he calls Kona after a native god, has cursed him. I hope the party will cheer him up but I don't have very high hopes.

There have been some earthquake tremors, but the Professor says they're perfectly natural. And having grown up in California, I'm used to earthquakes.

* * *

May 6, 1965

Ginger and Mary Ann gave the Skipper the tiki for a present! They found it in the jungle and didn't know any better. No wonder I couldn't find it again. The Professor is going to go bury it somewhere. He doesn't believe in Kona, but he doesn't want the Skipper to be so unhappy.

* * *

May 6, 1965

Well, it was a lovely party at first. The Skipper was flattered that we did this for him and he liked all the gifts. (I knitted him socks.) That is, all the gifts except the one from Mary Ann and Ginger: the tiki statue! They hadn't heard about it and just thought it was a cute little statue left behind by natives years ago.

The Professor dug a pit, just to be rid of the statue, but unfortunately the Skipper later fell into the pit and saw that "Kona" was with him. He jumped out of the hole and ran into a tree. After the Professor treated him (he's the closest we have to a doctor), the Skipper kept babbling about needing a native witch doctor, called Watubi, to cure him.

So the Professor had Gilligan dress up as Watubi, with Ginger and Mary Ann as his native-girl assistants. They performed a ceremony, not very authentic I'm sure, but it was good enough to fool the Skipper, especially after his head injury. He felt so much better that he ran out of his hut, and right into another tree. Now he has amnesia!

* * *

May 7, 1965

Me and the girls cured the Skipper with a voodoo ceremony (I was the witch doctor and they were my witch nurses), but he was so happy that he ran outside and hit his head on a tree. He's lost his memory! The worst part is that today there was a news story on the radio about the Navy holding maneuvers near our island in a couple days.

The Professor said that another blow to the head might cure the Skipper's magnesia, so Mr. Howell tried to hit him last night, but me and the Skipper had switched hammocks so he could sleep better, so Mr. Howell hit me instead. No, I haven't lost my memory. And the Skipper hasn't got his back yet.

* * *

May 8, 1965

Ginger confided in me that the Skipper made advances to her! This is one unexpected side effect to his amnesia. He may not remember who she is, but he's still attracted to her.

The Professor thinks that if the Skipper were hit on the head again, it might cure the amnesia, which seems a drastic measure. The Howells apparently accidentally hit Gilligan on the head two nights in a row, which didn't help matters of course.

Today the Professor tried to hypnotize the Skipper into remembering the past, which meant that the Skipper was taken back to his childhood and saw all of us as children (not just the actual children). The Professor is going to try again after dinner. I remember when he hypnotized the Skipper in order to get him to turn the radio into a transmitter. This is more challenging, because the Skipper has to recall his whole life, not just one section of it.

* * *

May 9, 1965

Yesterday the Professor tried hypnotizing back the Skipper's memory, but first the Skipper thought we were all kids, and then he thought we were all Japanese soldiers, so he ran to hide in the jungle! We tried to find him but couldn't. And the Navy is supposed to be coming by this afternoon!

Well, we'll just have to try to signal them without the Skipper's help, and then when they show up we can have them try to find the Skipper. He can be cured back home.

* * *

May 9, 1965

The Skipper ran off, but we found him, or rather, he found us. He captured all of us, even the children, thinking we were Japanese soldiers. So we were all locked up in a cage while the Navy came and went. The Professor tried to hypnotize the Skipper again, but he made Mr. Howell and Gilligan think they were both the Skipper. And I guess Gilligan thought the Skipper was Gilligan, because he hit him with a telescope, which brought the Skipper's memory back. He cured Gilligan and Mr. Howell by knocking their heads together. Then Gilligan lost his memory falling out of the lookout tower! So now the Professor is trying to hypnotize him.

As Alice said, maybe we shouldn't have any more surprise birthday parties.


	15. Dear Diaries

May 10, 1965

First mate's long:

Well, the Skipper has his memory back and so do I. Yep, I lost mine but the Professor hypnotized me back to normal. Well, normal for me.

It sure is nice to remember all the people on the island. I know I've told you about them before, but I still want to leave a record of it, so that if I lose my memory again, maybe I can read this and remember them.

I'm on the island with Mr. Thurston Howell the Third. I don't have to say who he is, because he's so rich that everybody knows him. Only, money isn't important to him. He treats me like I'm just as good as he is, which shows what a wonderful person he is. And his wife, Mrs. Howell, when they made up the word "lady," that's who they were talking about.

There are two other married people on the island, but they're not married to each other. Well, Mr. Brady's wife is dead but he keeps her memory alive and tries to be as good a father as he can to their three sons, who are a great bunch of little guys. Mrs. Martin is a wonderful mom to her three daughters, who are mischievous but much nicer than little girls when I was a kid. Mrs. Martin tries to be brave for them and she doesn't complain about not being with her husband, even though you can see how much she misses him.

Mr. Brady has a maid, Alice, who makes me laugh and makes good food, which are two important things to be shipwrecked with.

The Skipper, well, he proved what a captain should be. If it wasn't for him, we all would have drowned. He piloted the ship, and he kept us all safe and I wouldn't be writing this if it weren't for him.

And then there's a real live movie star with us, Ginger Grant! Boy, before we landed on the island I'd have been afraid to even ask for her autograph, let alone talk to her, but she's just like a real person and everybody loves her because she's so good.

The Professor is the smartest person I know and he almost always comes up with a solution to our problems.

Last but not least is Mary Ann. She's not the kind of person that always gets noticed, like Mr. Howell or Ginger, because she seems just like a normal, everyday, modest person. But she is the sweetest, most understanding girl I've ever met. And her coconut cream pies are even better than Alice's.

I want to remember all of them for the rest of my life, no matter what happens.

* * *

May 12, 1965

Carol Martin's diary:

After Gilligan got his memory back, we found out that he's been keeping a diary. Even though I keep one myself, I was surprised that someone like Gilligan, a young man who doesn't seem given to self-reflection, keeps one. Some of the others were upset because they thought Gilligan was writing his true and negative thoughts about everyone. Obviously, I can't let them know about you, since I'm sure I've said far more bitter things than he has.

Gilligan threw his diary in the lagoon so they wouldn't be so upset, but the Skipper, Ginger, and Mr. Howell all started keeping diaries, where they made themselves the hero or heroine of every adventure and misadventure. Then Gilligan's diary washed ashore and Mary Ann found it and read some it to us. Gilligan really is a sweet boy. I wish I could be as positive about everyone as he is, but unfortunately I see the bad as well as the good in everyone, myself included.

* * *

May 17, 1965

The Professor has invented a dye that glows in the dark, so we should be rescued soon! But the Skipper was looking at his book of Navy regulations and the weight limit is 199 pounds, so he's gone on a diet. I don't know if he can lose enough weight in time, especially since he's told me all the food he wants to eat when we're rescued.

* * *

May 18, 1965

Another crazy day on the island! Yesterday the Professor invented a phosphorescent dye marker to signal passing ships and planes. But the Skipper found out he needs to lose weight to rejoin the Navy, and then today it turned out that Gilligan was underweight, so the Skipper was dieting and we were all trying to fatten Gilligan up. Alice and Mary Ann made their most fattening food and the rest of us kept serving it to him. And then Gilligan drank the dye! And he glows in the dark! The Professor says it's non-toxic and the glowing will fade in time, but meanwhile Gilligan is on top of the signal tower as a beacon.

* * *

May 24, 1965

I've gone to live in a cave. No one wants me around. I found that out after I caught a crate of magician's props when I was fishing. I had a lot of fun doing the tricks, but I wasn't very good at them, and everyone said I was annoying. Even Mary Ann and the kids!

So when Ginger, who was once a magician's assistant, put me in the disappearing cabinet, I did disappear, out the back and to this cave.

* * *

May 24, 1965

Gilligan has run away! He was getting on everyone's nerves when he kept bungling magic tricks from a crate that washed ashore yesterday. And I guess he overheard us complaining, so he ran off during Ginger's trick with the disappearing cabinet. The children are very upset, especially since only Greg and Marcia are old enough to understand that Gilligan didn't really disappear and that it's just pretend magic.

Mary Ann, Ginger, and the men have gone to go look for Gilligan. I hope they find him soon.

* * *

May 25, 1965

Well, some of the others came looking for me, bringing food and blankets, but I refused to go back with them. Then later some monsters showed up, so I ran back to camp and was going to scare them off with the magician's flash powder, but Mary Ann used it in a cake. And then when the monsters turned out to be Mr. Howell, Mr. Brady, the Skipper, and the Professor, they apologized and everyone threw me a party. And the cake exploded from the candles on it.

* * *

May 25, 1965

Gilligan is back and caused another accident (an exploding cake), but we'd rather have him around causing accidents than not have him around. If he ever sees my diary, I hope he understands that I do care about him, even when I'm irritated. And I know the others feel the same.


	16. Art and Money

June 1, 1965

First mate's log:

Wow, someone else has been living on the island, for ten years! I wonder why Wrong Way never mentioned him. Anyway, his name is Dubov and he's a Russian painter who got tired of people criticizing his art. He has a transmitter but won't tell us where it is. He's very cranky. Still, we might get rescued.

* * *

June 2, 1965

Carol Martin's diary:

Alexander Gregor Dubov, the great Russian artist is on our island! I'm amazed that anyone could've been on the island for so long without us realizing it, and apparently he overlapped Mr. Feldman for many years. It makes me wonder who else might be tucked away on our island.

I'm very interested in art and I used to do some myself, in an amateur way of course, before the shipwreck. I would love to take lessons from Mr. Dubov, but he's far too irritable. Still, he's revived my interest. I've started a painting of my daughters, but even doing the preliminary sketches is difficult because they're too squirmy.

As for Mr. Dubov, he claims to have a transmitter that he won't let us use. At this point, I'm obviously dubious, or I guess dubovious. Mr. Howell has come up with a plan to trick Dubov into painting a portrait of Ginger. Then we'll all rave about it and Dubov will want to radio for rescue, since he'll be willing to return to civilization. I'd love to observe the great painter in action, but I'm sure he'd be annoyed, so I'll keep my distance until he's done.

* * *

June 3, 1965

Well, Mr. Howell had a plan to trick Mr. Dubov, but the painter found out about it. He got crankier than ever. So now Mr. Howell wants me to do a painting of the Skipper and then everyone will say how great it is, like they did with Mr. Dubov's painting of Ginger, but this time it'll make Mr. Dubov want us to get rescued so art critics can decide who's better, me or him. I told Mr. Howell I can't paint, but he says it doesn't matter because it'll be abstract, which means it doesn't have to look like anything. I'm not even sure how to use brushes and all that. (Yesterday I accidentally drank some paint thinner, which tasted better than the fosforessent dye.) But Mrs. Martin likes to paint for fun so she'll help me get started.

* * *

June 4, 1965

Mr. Howell came up with another scheme, to set Gilligan up as a rival artist. I ended up doing the abstract portrait of the Skipper. He and Gilligan have promised not to tell. We thought that competing against a lady artist might be more upsetting to Dubov than even competing against Gilligan. He's so volatile and it could've backfired.

Well, it did anyway. He decided that the island wasn't big enough for "two geniuses," so he made a raft from his paintings and sailed away. He did give Gilligan his transmitter for secret art lessons, but it turned out that the transmitter was corroded on the inside. So we never had a chance for rescue anyway.

There are no canvases left, so we can't build a raft ourselves, not that we could make one strong enough or big enough for all of us. I am still interested in art, and there are rocks and shells and so on that I can decorate with paint made from berries. We've been here almost a year and it would be nice to make our surroundings a little more pleasant. Plus, I could use another hobby. And there are many subjects, from my fellow castaways to the beautiful scenery.

* * *

June 7, 1965

Wow, I'm 21 years old and I've been adopted! I saved Mrs. Howell's life from a falling boulder, so now I'm G. Thurston Howell IV. (I didn't want to tell them that Gilligan isn't my first name.)

It should be really nice to be rich, even though money's never been that important to me, and even though it won't be the same to be rich on this island as it will be back home. But once we're rescued, Mr. Howell will get me some nice cars and send me to Harvard. The bad thing is I have to move out of the Skipper's hut and in with the Howells. But I'll see the Skipper and the others every day.

I don't know what I'll tell my real family— my parents, my brother and my sister— when I see them again, but maybe I can visit them and help them with all my money. Maybe I can help the Skipper and my other friends, too. I don't know what I'd spend the money on for myself. Maybe a motorcycle. Oh, and I could go to the movies whenever I want, and even buy large popcorn!

* * *

June 10, 1965

The Howells have adopted Gilligan, even though he's a grown man with parents back home. He saved Mrs. Howell's life so now he's living in their hut, being trained in etiquette, fashion, finance, etc. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, I'm happy for him, since he'll never have to worry about money when we get rescued. But on the other, I worry that they'll change him too much and he won't be the sweet, simple boy we all know.

I talked to Mary Ann about it and she said that she's trying to keep her distance now that he's a rich man. He asked her to go butterfly-hunting with him, as they both like to do, but she said no. She explained to me that since she's just a Kansas farm girl, the Howells probably wouldn't think she's good enough for Gilligan.

The others, even the Skipper, are treating him differently now. I can't help it, I am, too. We all still like him, but he's not one of us anymore. He's one of the Howells. Only the children are the same as before, and they don't understand why he has less time to play with them.

* * *

June 14, 1965

I had a dream last night that I was a prince and my parents, King Thurston and Queen Lovey, wouldn't let me have any fun. And my friends just wanted me to buy them things. I don't want to be a Howell anymore. I just want to be Gilligan.

* * *

June 15, 1965

Gilligan got tired of his posh lifestyle (well, as posh as it ever gets on our island), so Ginger came up with a scheme to make the Howells disinherit him. There was a debut party for Gilligan last night. (No, he didn't dress like a debutante.) He was so rude to everyone, including his adoptive parents, that Mr. Howell kicked him out of the family.

Unfortunately, today the Skipper saved Mrs. Howell from stepping in quicksand. I mean, it's good that he saved her life, but now Mr. Howell wants to adopt him, even though the Skipper is over 40.


	17. Words of Comfort

June 21, 1965

First mate's log:

I fell out of a palm tree again, but this time I have a swollen nose. It looks awful! Not that I had a great nose to begin with, but I was attached to it.

Both Ginger and Mary Ann flirted with me, but I overheard them telling Mrs. Howell and Mrs. Brady that they were just trying to make me feel better. I know I'm ugly and I'll never have a girlfriend.

I begged the Professor to operate on my nose. He's the closest thing we have to a doctor. I have to go now so that he can make a mold of my head.

* * *

June 22, 1965

Carol Martin's diary:

Poor Gilligan! He fell out of a tree and onto his nose! The swelling should go down in a week or less, but he thinks it's permanently damaged. The Professor confessed to me that he's agreed to fake plastic surgery on Gilligan, just so that the nose will be covered up by a bandage while it goes back to normal.

I need to go help Ginger and Mary Ann make clay models of celebrity noses for Gilligan to pick, I mean choose. Even though I know that the Professor won't really change Gilligan's nose, this part should be fun. Marcia and Jan want to help, too. They both like pottery. Marcia says she thinks getting hit in the nose must be one of the worst things that can happen, so she feels terrible for Gilligan.

I should mention that Mary Ann and Ginger both flirted with Gilligan, to make him feel better about his looks. Of course, they like flirting with him anyway.

* * *

June 26, 1965

We've been on the island a whole year now. Considering all the times I could've died, I guess a swollen nose isn't as bad as it could be. And the bandage comes off tomorrow. I can't wait to see my new nose!

* * *

June 27, 1965

Yesterday was the first anniversary of landing on the island. I hate to think of what it'll be like if we're here another year, or more. But we keep living as if we're going to be here awhile. Even though the summer weather isn't much different than the rest of the year, Mike and I are giving the children, and ourselves, a couple months off from school.

Today was the day that Gilligan's bandage came off. He was surprised and disappointed to have his "same old nose," but I think he'll get used to it again.

* * *

June 30, 1965

Now the Professor has a swollen nose! I was caddying for Mr. Howell and then the Skipper came along so Mr. Howell was going to show the Skipper how to golf. But when he swung back, he hit the Professor, who'd just shown up. Hopefully, the swelling will go down before the Fourth of July celebrations.

* * *

July 2, 1965

This can't be happening. One minute I'm trying to think of words of comfort for the Professor, who's the latest one with a nose injury, and then the next I'm sitting there stunned, listening to the news.

I can't write it down. I feel like it's the end of the world. And the worst part is I don't know what to tell our daughters!

* * *

July 3, 1965

Poor Mrs. Martin. Yesterday she heard on the radio that her husband died in Vietnam! The war was hardly going when we left Hawaii. I guess I'll fight in it when we get back. The Skipper might, too, since we'll probably rejoin the Navy. Capt. Martin was in the Navy since before he got married. That's how he knew the Skipper, and that's how his family ended up on this island with us.

It's just over a year ago that Mrs. Martin died. I guess we're going to have another sad 4th of July. I feel especially bad for the kids, the boys losing their mom, the girls losing their dad. Mary Ann and I talked about it and we're both going to try harder to be sort of an aunt and uncle to them, as long as we're all here together. That way it won't be so hard for Mr. Brady and Mrs. Martin to be single parents. And of course the Skipper and Alice and everyone will keep helping, too.

* * *

August 2, 1965

It's been a month since I heard the news. It's still hard for me to say it. At first I was mostly shocked and stunned, and then the grief hit me. I still cry at night sometimes, although I try to do it quietly, so the girls can't hear me. Marcia and Jan know about death because of Mrs. Martin, but of course it's different when it's their own parent. I haven't talked to Cindy about it. She's only two and doesn't even remember her father. I hope she'll understand when she's older. And I'll tell her all about him when she's old enough to ask questions.

Sometimes I think the worst part is that it had been a year since I'd seen him. I'd already started to forget a little exactly how he looked and spoke, the way he laughed. My fellow castaways are more vivid to me. As awful as Barbara Brady's death was, at least Mike hadn't forgotten her before he lost her.

He's been very understanding of course. Despite the different circumstances, we both know what it's like to lose a beloved spouse and have to raise children on our own. Well, we're not completely alone of course. He's got Alice, who's been helping me, too. All the castaways have been very supportive, like honorary aunts and uncles to the kids. I couldn't get through this without them.


End file.
